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One of those deceptively simple days...
Sep. 17th, 2006 09:41 pmI was fooling around with the BlackBerry the other night and decided to test out its alarm feature. I selected a sound described as a "sonar ping," set the device for 7 am, and fell asleep.
It didn't wake me. In fact, what happened was that the ping got integrated into whatever it was I was dreaming when the alarm went off, and it was a complete non-sequitur. I mean, I've had dreams where I'm sitting in an apartment and all of a sudden the doorbell rings in my dream, and it turns out to be the real bricks-and-mortar doorbell to the domicile I am actually in, but unless you dream that you're underwater in a submarine, how does your brain integrate a sonar ping into whatever it is you're dreaming about? (I guess it ain't easy, but it can be done!)
The astute reader will by now realize that I have no idea what I was dreaming when the ping interrupted. That's so, but does not take the edge off of my overall recollection of how strange the whole thing was.
At any rate, I'm due at JSC tomorrow morning, so I better do a better job of setting alarms tonight.
As far as the day itself was concerned, it started with the ping failing to get me up at 7 am for the second day in a row. By 10 am, though, I'm sitting down to finish editing the OCR of the article I'm translating (and, of course, to finish the translation) when Galina comes into the room and asks if I want to go with her to Coles Antique Mall and Flea Market (or something close) over near where we used to have a house in Pearland.
I said yes.
The market hasn't changed much (I mean, once you've hit 98% as far as your demographic is concerned, there's not much that can change, especially if there are no factors that might effect a change). I picked up a cheap antenna for the TV, some dried hibiscus flowers for tea, and a length of cable that I think I can use to secure my bicycle if and when I ever fix the rear tire. I picked up the Spanish word for ice cream cone (raspa, if memory serves), and recall the word for "puppy" is something like "mascota," if the signage is to be believed. We left just as the rain started coming down hard.
From there, we hit a couple of furniture stores, as Galina has promised to procure a chest of drawers for the upcoming new arrival, and let me tall you all about how interesting that was for me. (Wanna hear it again?)
From there, we stopped at Sam's for lunch (polish sausage and soda), and then it started to rain hard again, so we wandered the store, sampled the free samples, and picked up a leg of lamb and a few other things while the bass section did its thing outside.
From there, we went to the Hong Kong market, where we picked up yet more stuff, and then home via the back roads.
How I ever got to the translation is a complete mystery to me, because somewhere in there, I managed to take a nap.
What isn't a mystery is the fact that I need to hit the hay and get a good night's sleep. Big day tomorrow. Standard alarms; pings are for submariners.
Cheers...
It didn't wake me. In fact, what happened was that the ping got integrated into whatever it was I was dreaming when the alarm went off, and it was a complete non-sequitur. I mean, I've had dreams where I'm sitting in an apartment and all of a sudden the doorbell rings in my dream, and it turns out to be the real bricks-and-mortar doorbell to the domicile I am actually in, but unless you dream that you're underwater in a submarine, how does your brain integrate a sonar ping into whatever it is you're dreaming about? (I guess it ain't easy, but it can be done!)
The astute reader will by now realize that I have no idea what I was dreaming when the ping interrupted. That's so, but does not take the edge off of my overall recollection of how strange the whole thing was.
At any rate, I'm due at JSC tomorrow morning, so I better do a better job of setting alarms tonight.
As far as the day itself was concerned, it started with the ping failing to get me up at 7 am for the second day in a row. By 10 am, though, I'm sitting down to finish editing the OCR of the article I'm translating (and, of course, to finish the translation) when Galina comes into the room and asks if I want to go with her to Coles Antique Mall and Flea Market (or something close) over near where we used to have a house in Pearland.
I said yes.
The market hasn't changed much (I mean, once you've hit 98% as far as your demographic is concerned, there's not much that can change, especially if there are no factors that might effect a change). I picked up a cheap antenna for the TV, some dried hibiscus flowers for tea, and a length of cable that I think I can use to secure my bicycle if and when I ever fix the rear tire. I picked up the Spanish word for ice cream cone (raspa, if memory serves), and recall the word for "puppy" is something like "mascota," if the signage is to be believed. We left just as the rain started coming down hard.
From there, we hit a couple of furniture stores, as Galina has promised to procure a chest of drawers for the upcoming new arrival, and let me tall you all about how interesting that was for me. (Wanna hear it again?)
From there, we stopped at Sam's for lunch (polish sausage and soda), and then it started to rain hard again, so we wandered the store, sampled the free samples, and picked up a leg of lamb and a few other things while the bass section did its thing outside.
From there, we went to the Hong Kong market, where we picked up yet more stuff, and then home via the back roads.
How I ever got to the translation is a complete mystery to me, because somewhere in there, I managed to take a nap.
What isn't a mystery is the fact that I need to hit the hay and get a good night's sleep. Big day tomorrow. Standard alarms; pings are for submariners.
Cheers...
